


Mixing Houses

by Fangirlingmanaged



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adorable Castiel, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Curses, Eventual Happy Ending, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Gryffindor Dean, Minor Violence, Multi, Mystery, Protective Dean Winchester, Slytherin Cas, gryffindor sam, hogwart houses, really cool magic, slytherin gabe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-30 03:27:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5148557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fangirlingmanaged/pseuds/Fangirlingmanaged
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Years after the War of Hogwarts, new supporters of the Dark Lord are rising. People who are inspired by what Voldemort stood for. A new reign of terror was on the rise, and though the magical community managed to beat it back they know that it will rise again. The way it has before. <br/>Dean Winchester is an orphan, one of two children of a pair of very powerful wizards killed during the war, and is eleven years old when he gets a letter that will change his life. A letter that he has been waiting for since he was four years old. His initial mission was to learn about his parents, and avenge their death. He never imagined the bonds he'd make; a very profound bond comes as a particularly happy surprise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mixing Houses

**Author's Note:**

> I NEED TO START BY WARNING YOU ABOUT MINOR CHILD ABUSE IN THE BEGINNING. PLEASE, IF THAT UPSETS YOU YOU CAN SKIP UNTIL THE BOLDED PART!   
>  carrying on, i feel like i need to explain how i did the sorting for this.  
> Dean: Gryffindor for his courageousness and loyalty to the people he loves, especially his brother. His extremely protective nature.   
> Sam: similarly to Dean, he's brave and courageous and cunning. he's smart, but not pretentious. He's also very determined.   
> Cas: Cunning and resourceful. A dry sort of wit that is funny and mischievous. Taken from canon, he's also a leader. He popped up as slytherin to me.   
> Gabe: Slytherin as the rest of his family. Mischief is his one true love.  
> Alfie/Samandriel: Hufflepuff. Gentle and loyal.  
> Benny: Gryffindor. Brother in arms to the Winchesters and Novaks.   
> Crowley: Ravenclaw. Smart and loves riddles.   
> Charlie: Hufflepuff. Loyal to a fault to the Winchesters. Extremely patient with Dean.   
> Dorothy: Slytherin for her cunning and resourceful nature.  
> That is all. Carry on.

Sammy was six months old when Dean heard the first curse of his life. He’d woken up, afraid of the dark at the tender age of four, and was about to go downstairs to his father. He knew that wasn’t supposed to do that; they’d told him that plenty of times. He didn’t understand why, though, just as he didn’t understand why he couldn’t go to primary school even though he was _four_. He was really afraid that night, though, he remembers it clearly. There was something about the room around it. For the first time ever he didn’t feel like the light green painting, and the car bedsheets were of any comfort to him. So he’d gotten out of bed, and was making his way to the door when he’d heard it.

Voices coming from the corridor from his baby brother’s room. He recognized his mum’s voice, but it sounded afraid. Dean had never heard his mother afraid before, but now he couldn’t help but tremble right along with it as she spoke. She was telling someone to stop, and Dean heard another female voice reply. He’d recognized it as Anna’s voice, back then, his adopted aunt. He couldn’t think of why his mother would be afraid of Aunt Anna, but he’d made his way to the room to investigate. Even being so little he’d known that he couldn’t shout for his father wherever he was at the moment (He later found out that his father had been Anna’s first victim that night.) When he was at the door, he’d peeked inside. The only light in the room was Sammy’s nightlight; it casted eerie shadows on the wall as the lullaby from the wands and cauldron mobile kept playing. He remembers the melody well because they’d had it customized so that it’d play Hey Jude in his mother’s sweet and comforting tones. It did nothing to help his little trembling body then.

“Give us the child, Mary,” Aunt Anna had told his mother. She was wearing the typical witch’s robes then. She was part of the ministry, he remembers, in the department of Care of Magical Creatures. She’d always loved them; animals and creatures from the wizarding world alike.

              “You know I can’t do that, Anna. You have to fight this. It’s the curse!” Mary was wearing jeans and a light blouse. Her favorite, pink with lace trimmings on the hem, his father had given it to her way before they’d been born. She was clutching baby Sammy to her chest; he was normally a passive and agreeable kid, but in those moments he was wailing in fear and discomfort. It’s one of the most impressed memories Dean has of that day; the sound of his baby brother whaling away with no way of being comforted. It’s a sound Dean would get used to as time went on.

( **CHILD ABUSE STARTS HERE)**

              Aunt Anna was clutching her wand to her side, but as Mary continued to refuse to give up baby Sam she’d raised it against her friend. Dean didn’t know what it was that prompted him to rush into the room, but he felt as though something really bad was about to happen to his mum. He rushed in, wide eyed and trembling, only to be met with the wand pointed down at him. Logically he knew that it was his aunt facing him, but she didn’t seem like herself. Her eyes were vacant, her usually lovely and uplifted face all wrong in her passiveness.

              _“Crucio!”_ everything inside his body had cracked. The pain was unescapable. He had never been able to describe it, just how horrible and all-encompassing it was. It was, quite simply, the worst kind of torture. He heard the sound very distantly as he screamed his pain and fell to the floor. He’d been there, writhing and screaming, until his mother had pushed Anna away. She was still clutching Sammy, he vaguely remembers as everything had begun to go foggy because of the pain, but there was nothing she could do against the witch. It would come to seem strange to Dean, the fact that his mother hadn’t had her wand back there. She was a witch, from a family of great witches and wizards; a wand was something like an extension of her arm, and yet in that moment she hadn’t had a weapon. No muggle weapon either; she’d always despised those.

( **CHILD ABUSE ENDS)**

              “If you will not give us the child, Mary Winchester,” the woman with his aunt’s face had said, “we will take the brat from you.” She’d raised her hand to point the wand at his mother then. He remembers this part clearly, every feature in his mother’s face as she placed baby Sam in his cot and turned to look at her old friend. She was beautiful, with that stubborn determination and unapologetic courage, standing in front of her youngest. She’d briefly glanced at Dean, her eyes sad and guilty for what he’d just been through, before the room had exploded in green light.

The last thing he’d heard was “ _Avada Kedavra!”_ before everything went dark.

He’d woken up later in the arms of his Uncle Bobby. He’d curled into the old man’s flannel and squeezed his eyes shut; the feel of the old man’s scruffy beard was somehow the most comforting he could have felt. At some point he must have started crying in earnest because Bobby took to patting him on the back. He was spoken to softly, sort of like his mother though much different seeing as there was an inherent gruffness to the older man that could never be as sweet and soft as his mother had been.

“You’re gonna be okay, kid,” Bobby told him as he continued to rub his back. “You ‘n your brother, you’ll see. You’ll both be okay.”

                                                                        _______________

Dean is up at six thirty, bright and early, in the morning of his eleventh birthday. He was to go down and make sure Sammy’s lunchbox is ready before the kid gets up. Bobby must already be up, but he never quite cuts Sam’s sandwich in the way that he liked them. So, he put on his baggy hand-me-down clothes (there weren’t many options seeing as Bobby wasn’t as well off as his parents had been) and made his way down the stairs.

              Bobby was already sitting in his armchair with a cup of coffee when he made it to the landing floor. He smiled up at Dean as he came into the room, and watched him through the doorway of the kitchen. The boy grabbed a chair and scooted it to the counter so he could reach the premade sandwich and blunt knife. He expertly cut it into neat little rectangles and placed them carefully into the baggies so that Sam could eat each piece at a time whenever he was ready to eat them.

“So,” Bobby started and Dean looked up to see his uncle/foster dad standing with his shoulder against the door frame. He looked a mixture of happy and apprehensive. Dean tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t much of a talked anymore, only spoke when it was necessary at school or with his adopted family, but he preferred to keep in silence. Though he wouldn’t tell anyone he felt like that, he always feels like the little four year old who couldn’t help screaming for his mum. He feels as if he opened his mouth he’d start screaming and never stop. “Big day today.”

Dean, eleven year old little imp that he is, just cocks an eyebrow at his foster father. Bobby chuckles and presents him with an envelope. Dean’s eyes zero in on it immediately, and he swallows hard.

They’ve talked about these things before, of course. He’s been apprehensive about it since he started hearing the whispered conversations between Bobby and Rufus. They have a quiet day whenever the anniversary of his parents’ death rolls around. Though he’s vaguely aware of how things happened and why Anna killed the Winchesters, he doesn’t have full disclosure to what happened. _Why_ it happened. He just knows that someone very bad controlled his aunt, and his parents had paid the price for it. Anna had been killed shortly after for failing to deliver Sam to whoever was controlling her; Bobby and a woman named Ellen Harvelle had gotten word of what was planned to be done with Sam and had rushed to Lawrence Grove to protect the Winchesters however they could. Needless to say they had been too late to save the parents, but they had saved the two boys. Ellen could sense the traces of the _Cruciatus_ curse on Dean, and he’d been treated with kid gloves for a few months afterwards.

Dean hadn’t had the mind to talk about what _he_ had gone through. Even at four, he’d refused to be separated for longer than it took to take a bath or go to the bathroom. When the time came to go to school a few months later his silence had gotten worse, and Bobby had been extremely worried. It wasn’t until Sam was looking at him every day with the same sort of expression he had right before he cried that he began to adapt again. He still didn’t smile or laugh as much as other children his age; at school he was quiet and slightly nerdy. It was cause of much bullying at school, a boy his age named Raphael tended to try and make his life miserable because he was smaller and quieter, but he’d carried on for six years.

Now, there was the biggest opportunity in his life staring him right in the face. He pushed the glasses he’d taken to wearing about a year before up his nose, and climbed down from the chair. Bobby held the letter out to him and he hefted it. He read the name, and address to make sure it was his. Yes, Dean Henry Winchester was written in there. With Bobby’s address. Okay, so this was really happening to him. He could feel Bobby’s gaze boring on him as he, with slightly shaking fingers, ripped the seal and pulled out the letter contained in it.

His eyes scanned the page, and a certain sort of happiness and pride made his heart feel as though it was inflating within his chest. Ideally, he should have gone to the Salem School of Witchcraft. His parents, though, had been part of a sort of exchange program that had been created with all the witchcraft schools. Now, even though the program had been taken off in the efforts of the war and many other hardships the community had suffered, Dean was allowed to do the same. He was going to Hogwarts! He could be connected to his family again, he could investigate; he could… maybe he could find what he’d been missing.

“Bobby, i-it’s—“he can barely get the words out, and when they do it’s nothing but a thin whisper. He’s been hoping for and scared of this for a very long time.

“Well, see what it says, ya idjit.” His voice is gruff, but Dean knows him enough to realize that he’s smiling under that beard.

“Says I have to go to King’s Cross on September first. Get my stuff at Diagon Alley. There’s a list of things I need to get, but” he frowns up at his foster dad with a weight hurriedly settling low in his stomach. “How am I supposed to pay for all this?”

“You think I hadn’t thought about that before the owls came? You think your parents wouldn’t leave ya something? Mary was always worrying ‘bout you boys,” he’s full on grinning now something that he doesn’t do often.

In a show of excitement and childishness befitting of his age, Dean jumps and whoops into the air. He’s going to his parents’ school! He’ll finally get to learn as much about magic as he can. Even if Bobby had refused to teach him magic for his own reasons, he’d always wanted to learn. He’s always wanted to have that connection to his parents.

He’s still whooping when a tiny, floppy-haired seven year old makes his way into the kitchen. His puppy dog slippers slapping against the hardwood floor. He’s rubbing his eye with one chubby fist, and is still yawning. “Wass all tha noise?” he mumbles.

“Sammy!” Dean laughs exuberantly. He goes to pick his little brother up from around the waist, he’s a small kid, and bounces up and down in a way that Sam still likes. His little brother squeaks, but then starts laughing right along with him.

“Wass happenin’?” he giggles, and Dean bounces him again. Bobby watches from the doorway, enjoying as he always does, the moments in which the oldest Winchester lets himself be a child.

“I’m going to Hogwarts!” he screams excitedly. His little brother looks at him, wide eyed, and then hugs him tight around the neck. He knows the stories, embellished by Dean from the times Bobby has talked to him about his parents, so he understands how big this is for his brother. He’s grinning madly right along with his big brother. Maybe one day he’ll be able to go too.


End file.
